My love loses direction,

It often ponders and startles itself,

It often wonders what it is all about.

My love is lonely,

Seeking refuge in the corners of rooms,

And pillows long stained with wetness.

My love is conditional,

And then it goes ahead and forgives,

Lets go, holds hands,

And takes back the head on her bosom.

My love is silent and mournful,

Melancholy and slightly happy in repose.

My love is abstract,

Not knowing what to make of the world,

Or the colours within;

My love is blue.

My love is within, without,

And slowly flowing down the ravine,

While the vulture pecks lethargically at its prey

Wondering if it was worth it.

My love is lustful;

Craving flesh and mouths,

And bodies writhing on sheets.

My love is crowded

With emotions, handshakes, hugs and cuddles,

With tears and the little water boiling for tea.

My love is luxurious,

Ever forgetful with expenses,

There’s more debit than needs to be…

When everything is over,

My love is here.

Right where it was all along.